


You Need Help. (No, I Don't.)

by jenniferdeanmorgan



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Gross descriptions, Guess we'll see, Im trying my best, M/M, Murderer!Ryan, NEWS FLASH, Other, Shane Madej Needs a Hug, and hurt/comfort, but im really impatient so it is what it is i guess, but someone might lose theirs, calm down, dr goondis is never regaining his sanity, eventual ricky & tinsley relationship, he murders hookers, i cant write good sex please spare me, if any of yall have seen gotham then ryan is really going through some grade a nygma shit, im sorry hookers, im trying to make this a slowburn, jesus christ sir, jk but kinda, just some chaos, listen to rob zombie for most of your time reading this if you really wanna see whats inspired me, minor & almost major character death, minor shyan, no it's not between shane and ryan, personified sallie house, ryan bergara needs the electric chair, ryan is a fucking tease, scared for his life!shane, some almost smut, thats fun, this is also too many tags i apologize, this is like some batman and joker shit right here, this is shit but i love the concept of murderer ryan oops, vomiting and blood, you'll see what that means shortly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenniferdeanmorgan/pseuds/jenniferdeanmorgan
Summary: Ryan is going insane. This is the night he snaps. Shane isn't supposed to know. But he finds out soon enough.
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	1. Urges

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I'm Abbey, this is my first story on here so I have literally no idea how this works but I'm trying my best :)  
> This idea came to me at like?? 1am?? So enjoy my mediocre writing, thanks 💝💕💝💙💕💞

𝙍𝙮𝙖𝙣  
Oh god. Oh 𝘎𝘖𝘋. How did serial killers make this shit look so easy?? Ryan wasn't exactly sure when he'd lost it, when his mind fully derailed, but he needed to blow off steam and murdering was the only thing he could think of doing. In fact, nothing else 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘌𝘋. Drinking, pills, sex, even seeing his best friend. None of it. He'd been noticing his fascination with killings amplified, though. He was at the end of his rope and was willing to try anything to calm his mind at this point. Yes, even murder. He knew he needed help but he didn't know how you were supposed to walk into a guidance office with a smile and say, 'hey! just thought you should know I want to chop off that whore Sallie's head!! Got a way to fix that?!' 

So, yes, he'd decided to do one of the worst things you could do in a situation like this. He decided to act on his insane impulses. He'd just paid for another hooker and wasn't having a good time. He knew what his mind wanted him to do to be able to have a good time, though. Stealthily, Ryan snuck a roofie into the woman's drink and waited until it kicked in before yanking the hood of his sweatshirt on, picking her up, and dragging her out a back entrance that this place apparently felt they didn't need to keep guarded. Convenient for someone like Ryan Bergara. Ryan Bergara, who's finally lost himself. Ryan Bergara, who's about to kill for the first time. Ryan Bergara, who's handing himself over to the devil, the very thing he's always shown wanting to run from. 

Ryan took the woman to his apartment, taking her inside and sitting her in a chair. He only then came to the realization that he had no restraints. He did have plenty of weapons but, nonetheless, he was severely unprepared. "Fuck it, I'll just have to lock her in and go buy some.." He mutters under his breath. He doesn't think that'll work how he wants it to, but what else is he 𝘎𝘖𝘐𝘕𝘎 to do?? He can't do anything else. He wants to call Shane but he sure as shit knows he can't do that! Too much of a risk. Way, WAY too much. Shane may be his best friend but that bond would more than likely come to a screeching halt if Shane knew about this. So, Ryan decided to head out. He'd just have to trust that the roofie would keep her knocked out long enough for him to return. 

𝙎𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚  
In and out of consciousness she drifted. All Sallie knew at the moment was that a cute guy, roughly 5'9, around 30, had come in hoping to get some 'service.' She had only gone about her usual business, telling him she'd be taking care of him tonight, setting the mood, asking for special requests; now she was sat on a bed in a strange place. Her limbs felt numb, heavy, like there were weights under her skin keeping them grounded. She wasn't tied up but she felt tired like she'd been exercising for far too long and her body had shut down. She tried to remember more of what happened before now but everything appeared in her head with a thick fog overhanging it. Then she hears the lock of the door rattle. She freezes, afraid of what could be on the other side. Some of the lights flicker on as the door begins to creak open. The bedroom light shines on, bright, like a thousand fireflies constantly blazing. Sallie cowers from the light and from her possible captor. And then she hears a voice. "Ryan?," a pause, "holy shit!" 

𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙚  
Shane Madej, a 6 foot 4 monster of a man being friends with a 5 foot 9 midget, (compared to him, anyway), were a hilarious duo just by looking at them. Their chemistry, even better. Shane knew Ryan, knew him well, and he knew damn well that something had been off about him recently. He wasn't sure what but, dammit, he was determined to get to the bottom of it. Tonight's the night he's giving the green light for operation 'What's-Up-With-Ryan?' 

Shane's prepped with a full bucket of that assorted popcorn Ryan loves and some of their casual horror film favorites -- Saw, Scream, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween -- anything Shane thought could make Ryan feel comfortable when he eventually brings up the big one: 'are you okay?' 

It's around 11pm when Shane knocks on Ryan's door. He's met with no answer but, tonight, he isn't taking no for an answer. He pulls out the house key Ryan gave him ages ago and unlocks the front door. "Ryan?" He flicks the lights on quickly, almost the entirety of the apartment flaring to life. He glances around, seeing no signs of the smaller man but he does catch sight of a woman in his bedroom. "Holy shit!" He exclaims. "I-I'm so sorry, did I interrupt something?" He isn't sure whether he should cover his eyes or just dart back out the door. He decides on doing neither of those things when the woman seems to respond with- fear? Caution? He quirks a brow, setting the popcorn down and closing the door before walking over to her slowly. "Are you.. okay?" He asks in a calm, soft tone. "I'm Shane, this is my friend Ryan's place... what're you doing here?" 

𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣  
Sallie got a wash of relief that this was seemingly someone not out to hurt her. The fog in her memories began lifting ever so slightly and she did remember taking a drink of her cocktail before everything went black. Had she been drugged? That was her best guess at this point. She told Shane all she knew, that a young man who, based on the description, Shane confirmed as Ryan, came in, went with her, and had a few drinks in one of the service rooms. Now, somehow, she had ended up at his apartment. This woman looked absolutely terrified and Shane didn't want to admit what he thought could be the truth. Ryan wouldn't do that. Ryan wasn't like that. He'd never kidnap someone. He'd never hurt someone. He'd never kill someone. Not Ryan Bergara! Not his best friend! This woman was delusional, of course. She must've wandered in or came home with him and just not remembered. Of course! A misunderstanding was all this was. Besides, who knew how strong some of the drugs strip clubs had were. This woman could still be living in last week for all Shane knew.  
But a part of himself knew that wasn't true. And that part scared him. 

Finding everything he knew he'd need, Ryan went to check out, hoping his purchases weren't too suspicious. "Rock climbing this weekend." He chuckles, motioning to the lengths of rope he has. "Tent's got a hole in it- nothing ever works right, huh?" He attempts joking as he motions at the huge rolls of duct tape lying on the conveyer belt to the right of the slowly nodding, fake smiling cashier. Ryan stops talking then. He always rambles like that when he gets nervous. A bad habit he really needs to work himself out of. If he'd said nothing at all, this would've come across as less suspicious than him explaining his very elaborate, very fake plans. Quickly, he takes his purchases and heads out the door, driving back to his apartment, hopefully in record time. 

Shane hadn't the slightest clue what to do now. What if Ryan comes back? What would he do if he did? He needed to get Sallie to safety above all. He'd deal with the rest when it came. He was still trying to work up a plan when he heard Ryan's car pull into the drive. Shit. No time to think now. "Sallie, Sallie. I need you to listen. We are going to hide in the closet over there. Okay? We have to be silent. Completely." He told her, rushing to turn the lights back off as to make everything look less suspicious. He grabbed Sallie's hand and hid in the closet with her just as the lock was turning. 

The door creaks inward and Ryan steps inside. He glances around, turning on one light and gasping when seeing Sallie's gone. "Sallie..?" He asks in a cooing, silky tone. He's walking around, pacing, searching. It's unnerving and it's driving Sallie crazy, Shane can see that. Each second, he's having to grip her tighter to keep her from moving or making noise. Ryan begins to become impatient. "Sallie!" He grumbles in a voice that sounds eerily similar to his unsolved voice. It's so... unnatural. Unnatural hearing it come from Ryan when he's off set. It's like he truly is a different person. It's strange and Shane is so distracted that he can't do much of anything when Sallie finally loses it and breaks free from his grip, making a wild sprint for the partly ajar front door. Ryan smiles widely, maniacally almost, and rushes ahead of her, slamming the door in her face and locking it. Shane is too stunned by the events to move at first. All he hears is Sallie screaming. It's in fear and it slowly gets muffled. And then.. it turns to.. pain. That scares Shane. That scares Shane so bad that he has to see. He has to 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞, to 𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘍𝘐𝘙𝘔 that his best friend is not a killer or a kidnapper or anything of the sort. Ryan wouldn't hurt anyone unless they tried to hurt him first. Maybe the woman flipped out on him! Yeah, maybe! Maybe she really had just wandered in or was on some sort of drug trip. Slowly, Shane emerges from the closet, peeking out little by little. What he sees 𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘍𝘐𝘌𝘚 him. 

Ryan, on his knees, holds Sallie down with one hand over her mouth, the other mercilessly slicing away at her neck, blood spewing as he cuts deeper. Now she wasn't screaming anymore. She's gone silent, her eyes open and stuck in one spot. Glassy like marbles. She'd been looking towards the closet so she was looking at Shane. Her marble-like, cloudy eyes glaring directly at him. A pang of guilt hits the taller man in the chest like a bullet. God. Oh god. He can't even process this. What the fuck? He'd believe in ghosts before he'd believe what was unfolding in front of him. Finally, Ryan seems satisfied. He'd completely sawed off Sallie's head. And then he.. he starts laughing. Laughing loud and long, the sickening sound echoing off the walls of his small apartment. Shane's throat feels dry, his mouth impossibly wet like he's going to be sick. He manages to keep his lunch down but the tears that leak from his eyes are uncontrollable. This isn't Ryan. It's not. It can't be. He has to be sure, has to know that this is all just a dream. He steps closer. "Ry-an..." His voice cracks. "Ryan, what have you done..?" Shane's voice is soft. So soft that if even the smallest noise other than their breathing was happening, he would go unheard. 

The shorter man glances up, a look of bewilderment crosses his face. No. No, no, no, no. Shane wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to see this! But here he was. He's seen it all, Ryan knows he has by the look in his eyes. The sad, concerned, fearful look he has. Ryan can't take back anything now and he can't speak for some reason, either. He feels like he's betrayed the one person who truly cared for him, who truly was there for him. Because he had. He'd done just that. He opens his mouth to attempt to say something but a retch comes out instead. Caught off-guard, he leans forward, clutching his stomach as the remnants of what he ate that day came back up to greet him and splatter across the floor, creating a new puddle of fluids. "Fu-fuck..-" He whimpers, tears now flowing from his eyes and mixing with the vomit. He's shaking, he looks broken, pitiful, and seeing this makes Shane cry harder. He dares to take a step closer. "Ryan.. why? Why didn't you- fucking talk to me?" He demands, trying not to let his voice slip away from him and drown into sobs.  
"-Because I couldn't!" He shouts, his words nearly busting through the middle of Shane's. "I fucking couldn't!! I didn't w-want you to know.. that I'm..I'm fucked up..." He continues sobbing and Shane can't take it anymore. This is Ryan. It's 𝘙𝘠𝘈𝘕 for God's sake! He comes over to him, this time all the way over to him and kneels down beside him, cautiously resting a hand on his back. 

Ryan turns around, collapsing into Shane's arms and making Shane have to steady himself just right to keep from toppling backwards into the pool of blood surrounding Sallie's body. He closes his eyes so he doesn't have to connect that with Ryan. So he doesn't have to see it anymore. He holds Ryan tighter as he hears the muffled sobs against his shoulder and feels the vibration it's sending down his arm. He doesn't know what to say. He can't bring himself to say anything. He's thankful that Ryan speaks so he doesn't have to. "I'm s- I'm sorr-y.." Shane just nods, slowly running his hand along Ryan's back. He doesn't know if he can forgive him for this. So he still doesn't say anything. He's the first to pull away after a few moments of Ryan just sniffling and trying to compose himself. He stands, stepping over the body without a word, keeping his back to Ryan. "Ryan, you need help." He states. He can hear Ryan standing up behind him. "No, Shane, no, please.. I- I don't wanna get caught, come on, this is.. it's just a one time thing, I promise!" He sputters. Sure, a day ago he would've accepted help. But now he was too far gone. He'd crossed the line. Shane let his fingers rest loosely against his mouth. He didn't know how he was going to do this. How does someone approach a situation like this? He didn't want to hurt his and Ryan's friendship but... this.. this was a bigger picture situation. He laughs softly but humorlessly. As if he doesn't believe him. In all honesty, he didn't believe that Ryan could control himself. He wouldn't know for certain that a 'next time' wasn't to come unless Ryan was on some kind of medication. "Ryan." He says it firmly but also gently, turning to face him again. "You need help."  
Ryan looks like he's about to start crying again and it makes Shane's gut twist but he can't back out on this. "Ryan, once we get you some help, all of this goes away, okay? You get some therapy, medicine, something.. And then you're better. You're you again." 

Ryan listens, seeing the pain still in Shane's eyes, seeing how urgent he was being. He needed help. He did. He nods, walking closer to Shane. "Okay.. Okay, you're right..." He whispers. "Thank you.." He reaches to hug Shane again and the taller man accepts, wrapping his arms around Ryan's shoulders. He's stiff, an off posture from his usual soft and floppy build. Ryan loves Shane more than anyone but... he can't let anyone know about this, that's what his mind keeps blaring. He grips the knife that's still in his grasp tighter. "I'm sorry." He says quietly. Shane's confused. He tilts his head, glancing down at Ryan. "Sorry for wh-" He starts but doesn't finish as he feels a searing heat start in his torso. He moves his hand down. It's wet. What is it? He lets his hand move up to his face, his mouth slightly ajar as he sees the ruby red liquid coating his fingers. It takes a moment but he gets over the initial shock, connecting the dots. "D-did you just-?" But he doesn't need the answer. He already knows. More waves of searing pain hit again and again and again as Ryan jabs his abdomen with the knife a few more times, grinning as he works. Shane begins to double over and feels something bubbling up his throat. Moments later, the same ruby liquid is spilling over his lips- he chokes on it, falling to the floor. Ryan stands over him, grinning half in awe and half in mock sadness.  
"R-Ryan..." Shane manages, his vision starting to black out. "Why...?" He can feel tears forming again and spilling from him in time with the blood. 

Ryan only tuts and shakes his head. "Why? Because it's fun. And because I can. Silly Shane, you know I can't get caught either! A therapist-," he scoffs, "-are you kidding?" He grins, tracing the bloodied knife along his tongue and cleaning it off, the copper taste of his victims' blood rolling around in his mouth. He drops the knife on the floor by Shane and turns on his heels. Just before he walks out the door, he turns for a moment and says, "By the way- the name's Ricky. Ricky Goldsworth." 

The door closes and Shane Madej's in a hospital 'till Friday. The search for Ryan Bergara is ongoing. But the one for Ricky Goldsworth hasn't even begun.


	2. Someone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's beginning to take over Ryan. Someone else sets out to try and stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again, I have more inspo so I'm writing early- this time 2am heehoo love that. also warning this chapter is like a literal mess, I was writing this hyped up on chocolate strawberries & the hotdaga  
> ANYWAY if you really wanna get in my headspace, listen to the entirety of the hellboy deluxe album (or any album) by rob zombie while you read this :) (Feel So Numb, What Lurks on Channel X, Living Dead Girl, The Ballad of Resurrection Joe and Rosa Whore, Superbeast, Dragula, & Demonoid Phenomenon are the ones I've mostly been listening to so there you go) P.s. there's these songs called Head on Backwards & Let the Band Play that's not rob zombie but are also good to listen to during this. I've just been highly associating all of those with mid-break Ryan/blossoming Ricky & it's fun lmao

𝙍𝙮𝙖𝙣 (?)  
A month has passed. Ryan's moved by now, away from his crimes. He has to be more careful now. Much, much more careful. Not a problem. He can and will have everything balanced out sooner rather than later. He plans to do that with a now premeditated murder. Cops aren't looking for that, not with Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. He's not Ryan anymore. He's Ricky. He's got to get used to that.  
He stares at himself in the mirror that's in the bathroom of the motel room he's rented for a while. His eyes are sporadic, unfocused. He's shaking slightly, making himself stop by grabbing one hand with the other. For a moment, his eyes close as he forces himself to stop being afraid. He is 𝘕𝘖𝘛 Ryan. He is 𝘕𝘖𝘛 scared. He 𝘐𝘚 Ricky. He is 𝘕𝘖𝘛 scared. He 𝘏𝘈𝘚 killed his best friend. Or so he thinks. 𝘏𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘚𝘊𝘈𝘙𝘌𝘋. 

He begins to shake at the thought that he killed Shane. He flashes back to the bloody pool in his apartment, finally breaking as tears shoot out of him like a water pistol.  
"Fuck. 𝘍𝘜𝘊𝘒!" He screams, raising his fist, colliding it with the mirror, then retracting in pain as he holds his now bleeding knuckles. Jesus Christ. What has he done? And what does he have to do now? 

𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙚  
About a month had passed since it happened. Since Shane found out his best friend went off the deep end. Since his best friend tried to murder him. He'd been discharged from the hospital about a week after Ryan killed Sallie, a Friday. 'Fridays are when the new episodes air...' He thinks absentmindedly to himself. He sighs, pressing his fingers to his eyes in an attempt to be rid of all the memories he has with Ryan. He wishes he didn't feel these things. Wishes he wasn't so attached. Some nights he even wishes he'd never befriended Ryan so that he wouldn't care so much about him right now. He would've just been another guy at the office. He would've just been another murderer. But no. Ryan was his best friend. IS his best friend. He couldn't shake that. That's what hurts most, what prods away at his guts in the early morning hours when he's tossing around in his bedsheets, unable to drift off to sleep. It hurts. It hurts like hell. That and the fact that he referred to himself as Ricky Goldsworth, that stupid persona he and Shane had come up with during one of the true crime episodes. He's really derailing. Bad. But, worst of all, the cops are no closer to bagging him, which makes him hurt worse and makes him even more uneasy. How many more people have to die before Ryan's caught? How many more lives have to be ruined? 'It's not fair, it's not fucking fair.. he doesn't get to play God...' Shane thinks, his mind taking him to the dark corners again. Then he gets an idea. A crazy one. Crazy enough that it could work. 

𝙍𝙮𝙖𝙣  
Night has fallen. Time to launch the plan. His first premeditated murder. Can he do this? He hopes he can. He just wants to feel right again and he sure as hell doesn't feel that way right now. He walks out into the brisk night, the air chilling him down to the bone. He makes his way to the nearest club, walks in, and chooses a whore. These are his targets. They're easy, way too easy and not many people are concerned about them. It's sad but true. That's how it seems in his eyes, anyhow. Easy targets for beginners. 

"Hey.. I'm Ry-Ricky." He smirks once one of the hookers comes into the room he ordered. "Do we... have to do this here?" He asks, nonchalantly yawning to seem disinterested. "It's just... I've got SO many more exciting toys at home.." He stands, tracing his finger along her jawline. He can hear her breath hitch, making him smirk wider. "Come onnn..-" He leans in, lips inches from hers. "I'll cover for you, sweetheart." He coos into her ear. "Promise." He nips at her skin with his teeth and she takes in a sharp breath, starting to slowly nod. "I-" She whispers, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "My shift ends in- in half an hour.. wait for me?" She asks him, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. 

Ryan accepts. He's a tad impatient but he's willing to wait. "I'll be in my car, baby. You won't miss me." He slips her a wink before walking off and getting in his car. 

𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙮  
Just as she'd said, her shift ended in half an hour. It did take her a minute to get out of there, though. One bastard got a little 𝘛𝘖𝘖 thirsty with her. Mary rushes out of the strip club to meet the man who'd come to her earlier. She spots him inside one of the few cars left at this time- around 3am- and eagerly goes to catch up to him. "Hey Ricky, sorry, got held back a little." She chuckles, making her way around to the passenger side once Ryan directs her to. 

Ryan bites his lip as he looks over her form, smirking slowly. "What's your name, gorgeous?" He asks in his most sultry tone of voice. She's blushing within seconds, batting her eyelashes. "Mary. Mary um.. Winchester." She bites her lip, her gaze averting from him for a moment.  
Ryan keeps his eyes on her imagining things about that she never suspected. He wasn't thinking about going down on her hard on the motel bed. He was thinking of tricking her into thinking he was going to do that and then plunging a knife into her heart at just the right moment. "Well, Mary. I think this night's gonna change your life." His features stay neutral, mysterious, as he turns to watch the road and drive off in the direction of his place. 

𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙚  
Packing really took it out of you. Shane's half tempted to just leave his shit behind and head for someplace other than here. But he can't do that. Most of his shit, (𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘙𝘺𝘢𝘯), he needs. He won't admit it but he's obsessed. He has to do this, though. He's moving and he's changing his name. He's becoming a private investigator. Not an official one. Not enough time for that. More or less, he's taking matters into his own hands, taking the responsibility of finding Ryan into his own hands no longer as Shane Madej, Buzzfeed employee and "Ghost Hunter" but as C.C. Tinsley, self employed and obsessed private detective. 

𝙍𝙮𝙖𝙣  
They're at the motel. Ryan leads Mary inside, shutting the door. He's briefly going over how he wants this to unfold in his head. It better fucking work, too. Or else he'll be pissed and have to move again much sooner than anticipated.  
He doesn't bother flipping a lightswitch on as he abruptly turns towards Mary and slams her against the locked door, his lips attacking hers. She makes a soft noise of surprise, one that soon dissolves into a moan as Ryan deepens the kiss. He makes sure he's as handsy as possible with her, wanting this to be as convincing as it can be. His hands travel across her torso, wandering up under her loose fitting crop top. Mary presses closer to him, her hands massaging through his hair and across his cheek. She's tugging at his hair, causing him to groan. He breaks for air once, the rest of the plan falling into place in his head. Oh, he knows exactly what to do. He goes back in, hands smoothing along her hips and thighs, squeezing them too. He begins to walk, forcing her farther into the room and over to the bed. On the way over, he sneaks a knife off the table, pushing her back on the mattress just in time so her hand doesn't brush over the sharp object he's holding. Ryan pauses, tempted to just do it right then but Mary's yearning too much for him and he wants to take his time with this one. "Ricky..!" She impatiently whines, eyes cracking open to look at him. "Please.. please! I need you..!" She reaches up, trying to grip his shirt collar. He doesn't give her the chance though, finally leaning down and kissing her again. As he climbs on top of her, he places the knife on a bedside table just within reach of him. His lust filled eyes, lids heavy, watch her closely; he pins her hands above her head so he's in full control of her. She trusts him now. She's vulnerable. So very vulnerable. 

Ryan pauses to take his shirt off. Less clothing on the less of a mess this would be. He tosses his shirt aside, swooping back down to connect his and Mary's lips one final time.  
Mary's literally wrapped around Ryan, her legs locked around his waist, her arms around his neck. Nothing could've prepared her for what came next.  
In one move, Ryan has the knife in his grasp. He breaks away from the kiss, lifts it, and plunges it into her delicate skin. Mary's screams fill the room. Ryan shushes her, forcing his hand over her mouth. "Shut up. Shut 𝘜𝘗!" He growls, stabbing her unforgivingly, never once letting up. Blood's coating him and the bedsheets. It's spraying across the walls madly each time the knife's removed from her body. Finally, she stops moving and Ryan stops too. He grins widely, letting go of the knife. He stands up, glancing down at himself, the sticky redness all over him. 

For a moment, he processes what he's doing and it makes him think of Shane. He almost gags, almost falters, almost falls apart. But he doesn't. He stops himself from feeling anything. He can do that much, he knows for sure. That's one thing. Dismembering the body to get rid of evidence is another thing. He finds himself too squeamish. It's aggravating but he knows it'll take some time to grow out of. He saunters into the bathroom to glance into the broken mirror. He smiles at himself; it's like he's seeing two versions of himself. It's so strange yet it feels so right. 

He steps into the shower, watching red swirl into the drain by his feet. Fascinating. So fascinating. He thinks about Shane being like this. Just a used canvas covered with red paint, that's all he is now. That's all, Ryan. He's artwork, an experiment. He smiles in spite of himself as he climbs out of the tub. No, he can't think of Shane as one of his victims. He didn't want to. Shane helped him figure himself out in a sense. He should be thanking him. 

Ryan gathers his things, locks up the hotel room and leaves. "Thanks, Shane." He mumbles to himself with a small smile as he walks to his car. 

S̶̶h̶̶a̶̶n̶̶e̶ 𝘾.𝘾.  
The news reports are showing something about a hooker murder in a motel a couple towns away. It's time for Detective Tinsley to get to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy oh boy yet another one. I hope this is decent & also I suck at writing most characters/people other than Jerome Valeska so if the boys are too ooc then I'm sorry :// I'm tRYING I swear :,)  
> also I was listening to the plupple honeymoon ballad for the entire final half of writing this chapter; what an enlightening experience that was.  
> (yes that means I was listening to it while writing the almost smut scene, shut up)  
> h e y w o w this chapter is hella short, I didn't even realize lmao oops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends meet again. The reunion is anything but sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy hey, I actually really like this chapter & I hope you guys do too :)  
> The next chapter is when shit really hits the fan & Ricky & Tinsley really start blossoming so buckle up, you're in for a ride (assuming I execute said ride well enough lmAo-)

𝘾.𝘾.  
Weeks. That's how long it took Tinsley to get a promising lead on R̶̶y̶̶a̶̶n̶ Ricky. By this time there's been four more murders, each one calculated and cared for, each one cleaner than the last. But Tinsley has him. He has him in the bag. Once he reaches him, he has no idea what'll happen but he'll just play it by ear and see how everything turns out. A part of him still hurts because of this. The hurt runs deep mentally with the thought of their strained friendship and physically as Tinsley is reminded of what happened everytime he undresses to get in the shower or scratches over the still healing wounds left on his abdomen. He feels himself cracking, all of his emotions breaking through his tough exterior as tears stream from his eyes like fountains. Has he lost his best friend for good? He's never sure. It hurts so damn much. 

𝙍𝙮𝙖𝙣 (𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙮?)  
For the past few weeks, Ryan's struggled. Struggled with his emotions, with his gore tolerance, with his identity, with his smoothness and neatness. But now it's becoming easier. It's becoming much easier and much less troublesome. He still has those times where he breaks down and can't take it anymore, can't drown the screams from his head. But he always comes up strong and with new vim and vigor. 

He has been missing Shane though. He catches himself wondering what he would be up to if he were still alive or where he would be right now, if he would still be working for Buzzfeed. Unsolved had obviously been cancelled as the host had lost his marbles and Shane was dead. 

(In actuality, the very alive Shane Madej just couldn't find it in him to keep it going. Not without Ryan. It just didn't feel right to him.)

All of these things swirl in Ryan's head until he can't take it anymore. He growls, shaking his head and then it happens again. He can feel it. He rushes into the bathroom, attention flying to the figure staring at him in the mirror. It looks like him, it moves like him. But it isn't him. That soon becomes apparent when it starts talking to him. 

"Ryannn, you're not feeling right, you know it?" The other him, Ricky, speaks in a low, drawn out tone. 

Ryan nods. "I know. I don't like it." He sighs, a hand brushing through his hair. "Just.. I need to know how to.. to BE you, to always be you, why does it have to be split?" He shakes his head. "I don't want to feel or- or care anymore." 

"Ah ta ta-" Ricky cuts him off, "everyone has emotions, Ryan. I merely narrow them for you. And I can do that for you again. But you know what you have to do to bring me out." His mouth twists into a sickening grin. Oh he knows, all right. He knows exactly what he has to do. "I'll do it, then. I know I have to." 

And so, another body was discovered. Ricky had taken over and Ricky had helped Ryan branch out. He was beginning to move to other targets. Hookers were still an option but he was going bigger, badder, better. More risky. Up against stronger targets. It was fun, like hunting. At least that's how he would put it. 

𝘾.𝘾.  
Tinsley, already hot on Ryan's trail, picked it up even more with this new murder. It was all he needed that led him directly to Ryan's doorstep. Except he didn't knock. He didn't know what he'd say if he did. Not yet. 

Tinsley rented a room at a nearby hotel just to mull it over. All this planning of catching up to Ryan and he hadn't even made a solid plan for what to do when he actually found him. 

Frustrated, he sighs, running his hands through his hair as he paces around the room, thinking. This is Ryan or.. used to be Ryan.. but he's different now, he's 𝘋𝘐𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘕𝘛. There's more to him. Does he even think the same anymore? Can Shane even call him the same person? That's another thing. Shane can't go by Tinsley whenever he's around him. He doesn't want Ryan to know that he's been doing all of this to ultimately try bringing him down. He still wants Ryan to trust him. He hopes everything works out that way. He goes to knock on Ryan's door. It's as good a time as any and if he's going to do something about him then he needs to keep what little trust they have left and use it to its full advantage. 

𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙮  
Another one down. Man, it felt great doing this. It gave him a sense of self worth, of purpose. Strange purpose, but it didn't matter.  
He felt right. He was thinking clearly, he was calculated, he was prepared. This was the most sane he'd felt since his break. It was amazing, exhilarating, exciting, breathta- 

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬

What the hell? Who the hell could that be? Maybe that front desk guy who seemed to be a little too close for comfort with him. Hm. Maybe he'll have a double kill tonight. He walks slowly, carefully towards the door, ever so slightly creaking it open, eyes closed at first as he begins to talk. "Ricky Goldsworth, how may I-" but he pauses once his eyes open and the person before him comes into full focus. For a few long moments he finds himself unable to speak, unable to move. His mouth opens and closes a couple times, trying to form words but nothing comes out. So Shane speaks first. 

𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙚  
"Hey..," he stops for a moment, hovering between which name to say, eventually going for the one he's known the longest, "-Ryan. Long time no see." He starts off simple, welcoming. The best way. The safest. He's watching Ryan, albeit with a slight defense mode engaged in case he tries to pull some stunt like last time. 

"Well? I came all this way for you... aren't you gonna say something?" Shane asks, his eyes darting off in some random direction so he doesn't have to look into those eyes. Those eyes, once warm and welcoming turned cold and vacant. 

Ryan's frozen in place but his voice does finally break through. "Shane- what.. why are you here? How- 𝘏𝘖𝘞 are you here? I-I killed you.." He squeaks out. For a moment, the thought that this is Shane's ghost crosses his mind but he makes it disappear. That's impossible. Right? If it isn't then this is pretty damn compelling. But not like it matters now anyway. 

Ry sounds timid like how he does when they're on hunts. Just something as miniscule as that makes Shane's heart ache. "Yeah you..you tried to." He states. Well he's, in fact, not a ghost then. Figures. 

"And I..I miss you." He blurts right after. It's partly true, yes. He does miss him. He also leaves out the part about doing his own investigation and how he's been unhealthily obsessed with tracking him down and how he's even taken on a new name to keep his own identity under wraps-  
Ryan's shocked but he tries to keep it concealed as much as possible. 

"I um.. you can't be here." The shorter man hastily says, clearing his throat. His whole air of confidence that came with Ricky has vanished. That's what's been annoying him most here recently is the sudden dissociation. It messes him up in all aspects. Especially in the one where your presumably dead best friend unexpectedly shows up at your door 𝘈𝘕𝘋 after you've murdered six people. It's no surprise he's shaken by this. 

Shane just remains calm. He can read Ryan's body language like a picture book and part of it's hilarious with how he thinks he's hiding it, especially from Shane who knows his every quirk inside and out. For a moment it seems like the old Ryan is back. And then Shane feels the stab to his gut. He physically winces at the memory. 

"Do you regret it?" 

"Wh- what, killing?" 

"Stabbing me." 

The silence lingers again. It stays that way. That paired with Ryan's facial expression gives Shane enough of an answer. Inside he loves it, outside he shows disgust and hatred towards it. A complicated thing. 

"Nevermind, just.. just forget I asked.." Shane mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning slightly against the doorway. He can faintly smell blood from inside the hotel.  
Whether the body's still here or it's just Ryan's unwashed clothes from the latest victim, or both, it's sickening. He has to twist his head to get a whiff of fresh air. 

Ryan steps back from the door a couple paces, letting out a long, whistling breath. "Shane, what are you really doing here? You gonna turn me in? Cause here's your chance. How'd you even find me, anyway?" 

Shane really didn't trust him when he said that. He knew maintaining trust was a part of this whole thing but he felt, if given the chance, that Ryan wouldn't hesitate to jab him again and succeed this time. "No. I won't do that." He says simply. As much as he wanted to stop Ryan, he felt like he couldn't. He was still much too attached. This was his best friend. He couldn't turn in his best friend. He physically 𝘊𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋𝘕'𝘛 make himself pick up his phone and call 911. He felt like his skin would burn the moment he tried like a demon touching a cross. 

"I just wanted to see you.. I wanted to see how you were doing. Doesn't matter how I found you." He puffs out a breath. "I'll leave, if you want." 

Ryan nods. He really doesn't want him to leave but he knows that's the only way to do this without fail. "I think you should. Get out of here. If anyone knows you talked to me then we're both in deep shit." His voice falters slightly and at that moment he feels liquid spilling over his bottom lids and cascading down his cheeks. Surprised, he brings a hand to his face, wiping the water. "I-" His voice is sweet one moment but turns cold the next. "Go." He points somewhere in the parking lot, suggesting to Shane that he do just that. 

Shane studies Ryan, heart aching more at the sight of him crying. It makes him want to cry too. He almost does until he hears that icy tone. He just nods at Ryan and turns on his heels, walking off towards his car. He pauses about midway, hesitating, but continues on. 

Ryan watches him, his heart skipping a beat as he pauses. It returns when he keeps walking. 

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 

Shane climbs into his car, releasing a long, deep, sigh. He drives back to his own hotel and parks but doesn't get out. Everything builds up inside, all the happy times, the pain, memories, everything, 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘋𝘋𝘈𝘔𝘕𝘌𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘎 he's ever done with Ryan climbs into his mind all at once and before he even realizes it, he's screaming. He screams, slamming his fists on the horn of the steering wheel, the noise blaring across the nearly empty lot. He just keeps screaming even when the screams turn into sobs. 

In the hotel down the street, Ryan stops caring and Ricky goes to dispose of the body.


	4. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky makes a discovery. And a plan. Tinsley is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY it's been a hot second but here I am once again :) with a time skip!!! Spicy 🥵 & back in time with the boys filming more unsolved!!!
> 
> Anyway the song I'm associating this chapter with is Miss Jackson by P!ATD,, mostly cause I like to imagine Miss Jackson as a murderer rather than a slut lmao- I see the lyrics coming from Tinsley's pov & the lyrics themselves being Ricky/about Ricky.  
> especially  
> "𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬  
> 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯  
> 𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘮  
> 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯"  
> also next chapter is gonna have the vibe of Young and Menace by FOB so uhh,, a hint;  
> "𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨  
> 𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴... 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯!  
> 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵....  
> 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨  
> 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘦"  
> (also from Tinsley's perspective about Ricky)

𝟕 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 

𝘾.𝘾.  
The last time he'd seen Ryan... or rather, Ricky, it'd been at a hotel room with a dead body hidden somewhere inside. Even now, the smells still haunted him. He shook his head, trying to forget the blood he'd seen and felt and smelt. He hated looking back on those last times he'd seen Ryan but at the same time he loved them. He loved them because despite the circumstances, it'd still been Ryan. His best friend Ryan. Fuck. His fists clenched tight around the cool ceramic of the bathroom sink, his head hanging as he stood in front of the mirror, eyes sharp as he glared at himself for a long time. He ran a pensive hand across his ever growing mustache, lost in thought. His eyes were dark and red rimmed from his immense lack of sleep in the past few years. 

It had taken a hell of a long time but he finally had a badge. He finally had the authority and the power to take down Ricky once and for all. He had to avoid the press like a plague, though. If he got too much exposure, it'd be bad for him. It would send Ricky either into a panic or a rage.

He'd flee and wouldn't trust Tinsley anymore or he'd be furious that his own friend was trying to take him down and Tinsley could very well end up in a body bag just like the rest of the victims. It had been so strange having to refer to Ryan as Ricky at first but he'd become a more confident killer. Everyone called him Ricky Goldsworth now. His cool serial killer name, Tinsley supposed. 

In a way, he had done exactly the same thing. His cool detective name. C.C. Tinsley. Never did he realize that that Unsolved episode they'd done a lifetime ago would actually end up becoming true, what with them moving off and changing their identities. 

Tinsley was sure he was the only cop in the area that really knew who Ricky was. Sure, everyone back home had their suspicions but even they were doubtful. That had shocked Tinsley but he understood. No one wanted to believe that Ryan had really done all of this. So they didn't. 

They turned a blind eye, blocked it out like some unimaginable trauma. Shane wished he could've done that. He wished he didn't have to think about Ryan Bergara as a killer. 

He shook his head, blinking as he stared back into his own eyes. He wasn't Shane anymore. Ryan wasn't Ryan anymore. They were two strangers, two completely different people with completely different lives. Tinsley and Ricky. Ricky and Tinsley. 'A hell of a rivalry this'll be..' Tinsley thought to himself. Somewhere, and very soon, Ricky would be thinking the same thing. 

The next few days was the force getting prepared to delve further into the Goldsworth case, finding out what they could and reporting back with it. Tinsley came out on top with the research and the interviews and anything he could gather that was even remotely connected to Ricky. He had a pretty solid case file built up by the end of the week. Problem was, none of the apparent sightings of Ricky matched anywhere close to Ryan and a lot of the fresh leads they'd gotten had turned out to be dead ends. Sucks for them. Mostly for Tinsley. 

𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙮  
As much as Tinsley had wanted to avoid the press, it wasn't working too well for him. Ricky knew about him. He'd known for a while now. He was going to any lengths to find out what he could about this Tinsley. The thing was, he didn't know who Tinsley used to be. He'd never actually seen his face. 

"Now don't scream.." He murmured, staring at his own reflection in the terrified woman's eyes. "Sweetheart, you know what I'll have to do to you if you do." He pouted, feigning remorse as he slowly removed the gag from around her mouth.

She took in deep gulps of air, head hanging slightly. Ricky grabbed hold of her chin, yanking her face upwards so she was forced to look at him. "Now tell me," he breathed hard and heavy, making sure she got the point, "you heard of a man named Tinsley?" She had. She didn't speak but rather nodded. Ricky tutted, shaking his head. "Now, now, honey- you've got a mouth, dontcha? Good for more than just talking, I imagine-," He bit his lip, eyes flickering across her form, across the thin clothing she wore, "but I don't need it for that other reason. I need it for its original purpose. So 𝘶𝘴𝘦 it, or I'll pry your teeth out one by one, real slow until you're choking on your own blood." He growled the words, snapping a pair of pliers dangerously close to her face.

She shivered, stiffening with fear. "O-Okay, okay!" She cried out. "He- He's just.. He's a detective. He's investigating y-you-" A new wave of fear came over her as it sank in for a second time that this was 𝘵𝘩𝘦 Ricky Goldsworth. "You're- You're Rrr-Ricky and- and he's looking for you.. he's good too! A really good detective! That's all.. that's all I know, I swear!" She began to cry as she panted out each breath, fear laced in it. "Please, please let me go-oh-" She sobbed out. 

Ricky seemed satisfied for a moment. He'd hoped Tinsley was a club kind of guy and that he might've paid a visit here but to no avail. At least not that he'd found yet. He squinted at her, starting to interrogate further. "He come in here before? Looking for a good time? You'd tell me if you knew, wouldn't ya, doll?" The words dripped from his mouth, sweeter than honey.

The woman's eyes flickered with some kind of knowing glance. Like she knew something more. Something she wasn't revealing. Yet she still chose to deny. "No, n-no, I swear, I've never seen him!" She cried out. "I told you everything!" Ricky sighed. "Babydoll- I was hopin' that I'd be able to at least let one victim go.. but if you're gonna do this then why should I bother?" He edged closer to her again, eyes narrowing. "Has. He. Ever. Been. Here?" He demanded the answer from her sternly. She was shaking now. Like she'd break any second. "I'm sor- I'm sorry, you're right, you're right, he's been here! But-but just once! One time! I saw his badge and knew it was him- he-" 

"WHAT DID HE LOOK LIKE?!" Ricky demanded. "I have to know what the sonovabitch 𝘓𝘖𝘖𝘒𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘒𝘌 before I can even think about offing him!"  
The woman shivered at his tone. So cold. So angry. Rage. Pure cold, hard rage. He pressed the pliers against her skin now. 

"TALL!," she suddenly blurted, "he was tall, he was really tall!" She paused for a moment, taking in soft, shallow breaths. "He had a mustache, thick. And stubbly beard. Button up white shirt with black suspenders, black pants, black shoes, whatever, the- the uniform, I guess. M-messy hair, brunette. That's all, I swear, I swear!" She began crying harder now, her head whipping away from Ricky as he finally released her chin from his grasp. Ricky stood up straight, pacing around for a few seconds. 

Suddenly, he turned towards her again, voice calm and collected like before. That was almost scarier than when he was shouting and spitting directly in her face. It just showed how much of an innocent front he could put on. His fingers grazed his lightly stubbled chin and upper lip, shoes squeaking against the floor. "I believe you." He spoke the words gently. "You've been a good girl, Melody." He praised her and for a moment she had hope that she would be released. 

That thought quickly vanished as she felt warmth trickling down her neck. She hadn't even realized what had happened until she caught sight of the knife, bright crimson coloring the blade. Her mouth hung ajar as she choked and sputtered, trying to reach for her wound to somehow block the bloodflow but it was too late. 

In a matter of seconds, her body was slumped forward, her blood dripping steadily onto the floor. Ricky smiled, satisfied. The description he'd been given of Tinsley sounded like someone he used to know. But there was no way it was him. He refused to believe it. Seven years ago outside that hotel room was the last time he'd ever see his face. He didn't have to worry. Not a bit. But something inside him screamed the exact opposite. 

𝘾.𝘾.  
"Another murder? Hooker?"  
"Bingo. Melody Smith, throat slit. She was tied up buuut looks like our killer decided to untie her after he killed her." The forensics guy pointed to the obvious bruising around the ginger's wrists.  
"He?" "Yeah. Based on the type of person killed and how, it would point more towards a male suspect." Tinsley nodded, observing her closer. "The blood's cleaned up. There would've been blood drip but the floor's clean. Why would they- why would 𝘩𝘦- do that?" 

The forensics guy shrugged. "Perfectionist is my guess. Wants to be cleaner, neater about it."  
Tinsley pondered on this. He already had a hunch on who'd done this and he was sure everyone else did too. Ricky. Problem was, he really was a perfectionist. Cleaned up well at crime scenes and rarely left any kind of trace. He'd been getting more cocky too in the past couple of years. After his first few kills, he'd started cleaning up everything and leaving no body, just a missing person. Now though? He had bodies left and right but no one was able to track anything.

Tinsley knew who he was but he didn't have much of a starting point. The last place he'd been was that hotel and Ricky was long gone from there. Tinsley just had to examine the crime scenes and scour through what evidence was available to find any kind of a slip up, any kind of a hint that would lead right to Ricky or at least close enough to track him better. 

He had everything from past cases and now everything from this recent one and still nothing but the usual. Most of Ricky's attacks ended with a hooker missing or dead and a nearly pristine crime scene. He'd only slipped up a couple of times and that'd been early on. Years. Literally years since he'd slipped up. God, this wouldn't be easy. But Tinsley did have an advantage. He'd known him for years. He knew how he could be so from that he could search for a quirk or a weakness or something in the murders. 

Tinsley scrubbed his hands through his hair, eyes straining to look at the papers any longer in the dimly lit room. His hands shook as he held onto one of the manila folders and finally he threw it onto his desk, groaning loudly. "Fuck! Goddammit!!" He shouted, his fists pounding against the wood with a 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱. He rested his face in his hands, sighing heavily. His words were muffled as he spoke them. "What the hell, Ricky.." his breathing sped up for a moment, "what the hell, Ryan..." He could feel tears forming and tried to blink away the sting. He felt some slipping out and he couldn't fucking do this. No. No, no, no, not again. That's not Ryan. And he's not Shane. 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘵, 𝘛𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺! 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳!!

He shook his head, suddenly standing up, his chair scooting out behind him, screeching across the floor. He stacked up the folders, slipping them into his bag and closing it. He flicked off his desk lamp and checked the time. Nearly midnight. God, he needed a drink. He made his way out of the office and walked down to a club, a different one than the one Melody was from. He didn't want to have to think about work for one more second tonight. 

𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙮  
Good. They found her. This meant he was one step closer to finding out exactly who this Tinsley was. Not close enough, though. Why not check out some more clubs? There had to be a chance he'd been to some others around here, too. Might as well go rustle some jimmies. 

"Scotch." He muttered to the bartender, tipping his hat forward slightly. He pulled his trenchcoat tighter around himself before realizing it would be much too hot in this the whole night. He slipped it off, hanging it on the back of his chair, revealing his striped button up tucked into his dark slacks. He also took his hat off, placing it beside him on the bar and sighed as he waited for his drink. He took a few quick glances around the excitable room, seeing if he could spot anyone of interest to 'talk' to. His gaze stopped on a man at the far end of the bar. His hair looked a tousled mess and his clothes rumpled. His clothes. White button up with black suspen- 

He jumped as the sound of a glass being smacked onto the wood was heard. "Jesus Christ, sir-" he murmured, grabbing the drink and downing it like it was water. "Sorry." The bartender apologized. "Want another?" He asked after witnessing it disappear before his eyes. Ricky simply nodded, sliding the glass back towards him. 

As he waited, his eyes wandered back to where he'd seen the man. For a moment, he thought he'd left but then Ricky realized he'd been looking at the wrong place. He angled his gaze in the right place and sure enough, he was still there. The mystery man. The mystery man who, the more he studied him, the more he began looking like a one C.C. Tinsley. Seemed as though the guy had been there for a while. He was slumped over the bar and had a few empty glasses surrounding him. Ricky could hear him calling for another which another bartender gave and he downed it quickly. 

If Ricky had to guess, he'd say the guy was trying to forget something. Wonder what that could be. He took his second drink and drank it slower, small sips at a time as he inched his way closer to the man. He needed to get a good look at him without being suspected or spotted for that matter. The more Ricky looked, the more an unnerving sensation grew in his stomach. He couldn't quite pinpoint why but he didn't like it.

Then it hit him. Holy shit. Fuck. Shit. Shane?! Oh yeah. This was him alright. His eyes flickered between the messy rat's nest on his head and the ever thickening facial hair, then to the badge shining on his belt. Holy fucking shit. Shane fucking Madej was C.C. Tinsley. 

He realized he'd been staring too long when he felt the eyes burning into him. He blinked rapidly, bringing himself back to reality and- oh fuck, those burning eyes were Tinsley's. Ricky quickly turned to the side, placing his hat on to hide his face. He was still a few seats away so he hoped the man was drunk enough to not be able to tell who he was. 

𝘾.𝘾.  
Tinsley was drunk out of his mind and it felt amazing. He didn't have a care in the world right now and that was fine with him. Everything was great, life was great, he was happy, and his best friend definitely was not a serial killer. He picked his head up off the bar to ask for another drink which was soon delivered. He drank it carefully, trying not to spill it. 

As he did so, he felt like he was being watched. He turned, looking at the blurred face of a man. He was a few seats down but he was definitely looking at him, that much was undeniable. Tinsley couldn't make himself form any words but he squinted to try to steady his vision a bit. All he could really tell was that this man was small and had on a button up. His skin tone was a bit darker than his own. He continued studying him until said man looked away, pulled on a hat and coat, and went for the exit. Huh. Weird. He just shrugged and finished off his drink. 

𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙮  
Shortly after, he yanked his coat on and went for the door. Fuck. Fuck fuck. He thought it all over. Tinsley. The detective looking for him. Shane. His friend who had always promised not to turn him in. No one could be trusted, he'd decided. No one. Not even your best friend. Ricky was furious and he needed to send a message. Well, more so a warning. Either way, he needed his point to get across that they weren't friends, not anymore. And that he was coming for him. Ricky knew just what he needed to do. 

𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩  
"Hello?" answered Brent as his phone began chiming. "Ryan? Holy shit man, I-," he paused, uncertainty coursing through his veins. He hadn't heard from Ryan in seven years. And why was that? Oh, right, because he killed someone, tried to kill Shane, and dipped. "What um- what've you been up to, dude?" He asked him quietly, nervously. Ricky smirked and it was so wide and obvious that it could nearly be heard over the phone. "Nothing much. Just thought I'd play catch up. It's been a while, hasn't it?" He yawned softly. Brent chuckled. "Um, yeah.. hey, it's nice to uh- to hear from you but right now isn't the best time, I'm sorry, I have to go." He didn't wait for answer as he hung up. 

Immediately, he went to dial 911 but paused as he heard a sound down the hallway. Creaking. He slowly went towards it, squinting slightly. God, he was just making himself paranoid. Just call the cops, dude. He paused in the hall, turning around, about to walk back into the living room when he was pulled back by a cord being wrapped around his neck. He choked, his phone falling from his hand in shock. 

"Tsk tsk tsk." The sound was playful almost. Playful and dangerous. All Brent could see was a polished shoe stick out and crunch down on his phone like a cigarette being stubbed out. "Now why would you wanna do a thing like that?" The voice was soft with a sharp edge. And, worst of all, it was familiar. Brent's blood ran cold as he felt Ricky's hand run along his jaw. "R-Ryan, please, you don't have to do th-!!"

"Shut up. Yes. I do." He said the words as he pulled the cord taut around his neck, choking him. "And my name is Ricky." For a moment, the only sound was Brent struggling against the cord and finally he began to grow weaker until his hands stopped clawing and his feet stopped thrashing and Ricky could no longer hear his frantic pants of breath. Only then did he let go of the cord and watch the body hit the floor. 

"Night night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I'M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER FUCKFNLSNFJFBFNF- I've had this part of my idea thought of for a few weeks & now that I'm actually writing it, the words are flowing 😎🤟 I hope yall are hyped or something lmao  
> Also how have you guys been enjoying Watcher? Bc mmm 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙛𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this is okay,,, it's pretty short compared to a lot of stuff I've read on here but I'll give myself a pass just this once djdjdjdj


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